


Defying Gravity

by miyatree



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dubious Science, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Guns, M/M, Other, Reno is Bisexual, Science Fiction, Vincent is Reckless, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:54:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25454239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miyatree/pseuds/miyatree
Summary: Reno and Vincent never had any reason to speak to each other until Shinra makes an unexpected offer to the ex-Turk. The two suddenly find themselves fighting for Edge side by side. Once a Turk, always a Turk. [rewritten and moved from fanfiction.net]
Relationships: Reno/Vincent Valentine
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	1. An Unforeseen Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> General Info: Set some time after Advent Children, and Dirge of Cerberus never happened.

Often, he was called an open book.

Reno took a drag from his cigarette as he stared towards the Nibelheim Mountains, pondering why people found him so easy to read. His partner, Rude, perhaps the complete opposite of him, exuded an air of mystery most considered intimidating. It was Reno's bold personality and Rude's distant one that made them such a perfect team, he'd always thought.

Reno knew people thought he was cocky, too fearless for his own good, and maybe a little bit lazy, and he tended to agree with them, but there was more to him than that. What people _didn't_ see—what Reno wouldn't _let_ them see—was that deep down inside he was terrified. He could never pinpoint exactly what it was he was terrified of, but he knew he was terrified.

It wasn't his job, he told himself. Being a Turk was dangerous in and of itself; despite their attempts to fix past mistakes, Turks were still hated around the Planet. Reno couldn't count the number of times he had been the target of assassination attempts, mostly from grieving family members and friends of the innocents he had been ordered to kill once upon a time. They were easily taken care of, though, and it wasn't something Reno worried about. Once a person started to worry, it would be the death of them.

It wasn't his 'unfortunate habits', as Rufus liked to call them, referring of course to his penchant for alcohol and tobacco over sunshine and daises. “Everybody's gonna die some day,” Reno always said. “You might as well make the most outta your life before the shitty, shitty end.” Besides, if he had been terrified of those things, he would have quit them long ago.

Whatever it was, it was a problem for another day and another pointless company-mandated therapy session. An idle smile cross his lips as he took a long drag, letting his feet direct him to Shinra's abandoned mansion.

He _was_ partly terrified of this place, and the stories he had heard about it. As a Turk he was familiar with murder and deceit, but he still considered himself a sensible man. He had never purposely drawn out an assassination or interrogation. He preferred to finish things as cleanly and quickly as possible, earning himself quite a reputation in the underground circuits—everybody knew that if you had to meet a Turk, Reno was the one to meet. He wouldn't let you feel too much pain if he could help it. So, the mansion that now stood tall before him sent a chill down the redhead's spine. He knew Hojo had abandoned labs and Gaia knew what else hidden in the depths of its walls. He knew unimaginable horrors had taken place there. He could only imagine how people had suffered.

Looking up at the filthy windows and the aged brick, Reno took a double take when his eyes connected with those of another man. His green-blue eyes widened, and he cursed. Red eyes glared back down at him.

There it was, a perfect example of just one of the horrifying things done in this mansion. Vincent Valentine, a former member of the Turks and member of AVALANCHE, just so happened to be standing in an upstairs window. Tseng had assured Reno that Vincent would not be at the mansion, and Reno could only assume he had been misinformed. Reno scoffed. Now there was something unlikely. More likely he'd pissed his superior off bad enough to warrant the surprise.

"Fuck," Reno muttered, throwing his cigarette on the ground and stepping on it. He knew the black-haired man disliked the smell of smoke, and since Reno was on a mission, it was best to stay in Vincent's good books. Regret hit him as he opened the front door. He sighed. It would have been nice to have the extra comfort of nicotine, his one true friend besides alcohol and Rude.

Half expecting the man to jump out of the shadows and attack him, Reno was surprised when Vincent appeared at the top of the stairs, one hand buried in the pocket of his black pants and the other clutching the daunting Cerberus. His traditional red cloak was missing, and he had a simple black t-shirt on. _Colourful_ , Reno sneered inwardly.

He kept his eyes on the dangerous weapon as he waved his hands, an attempt to show the man he was unarmed.

"Hey, man, how ya' doin'?" he said loudly, trying to be as cheerful as possible. He wasn't sure if that was the right approach to take, considering Vincent's lack of a response, but he continued anyway. "So, listen. I, uh, didn't expect you to be here and I kind of need to look around a bit, so if you'll just—"

Vincent's gun arm raised, and Reno bit his lip as he stared down the three barrels of Cerberus, wishing he hadn't come. "Leave."

"Can't really do that, man, not yet at least. Can I just—"

"This is my house. Leave."

"You live here now? How's that been going for you? You've certainly spruced the place up a lot…" Reno said, trying his best not to glance around at the decaying room they were standing in. "Wanna give me the grand tour?"

"No. Leave now."

Reno sighed, rolling his eyes. "Listen, you and I both know you ain't gonna shoot me, so can you at least listen to what I have to say?"

Vincent stared at him, an unreadable look in his eyes. They stood in silence for several moments, during which Reno nervously switched his weight from one leg to the other. If he had kept his cigarette he might have contracted some sort of sudden cancer on the spot and been able to get out of the situation. A deafening _bang!_ echoed in his ears and a bullet came soaring past his head.

He choked on his saliva, instinctively reaching for his EMR, but even as he did so he regretted it. He should have known that was a warning shot, and likely the only one he would get. He had practically accepted a fight. "No, wait!" he yelled, tripping over his own feet in an attempt to get out of the line of fire. "Tseng sent me! All I need to do is grab some files from Hojo's lab, man, I swear! Then I'll be gone!" He ducked inside a room, which turned out to be the (surprisingly clean) kitchen, before realising that the firing had stopped.

Footsteps made their way softly down the stairs, and Reno prepared himself for death. Don't mistake—the Turk wasn't afraid of death, but this situation would not have been on the top of his list of Ways To Kick It. He closed his eyes, sliding down the wall as he tried to telepathically send his last wishes to his best friend, Rude. _You can have my EMR, buddy, and my CD collection. Send my middle finger to Tseng for putting me in to this situation, okay? If it isn't blown off in a second, I mean._

As Vincent rounded the corner, Reno swung out with his EMR but it was easily knocked away. The muzzle of Cerberus pressed against Reno's forehead, and just like that the redhead realised what he was truly terrified of. His knee started to shake and he bit his lip to keep from pleading for his life—to keep whatever dignity he had left.

It scared him not because he was going to die, but because he had no control over the situation. With his job, at least he knew what he was getting in to, missions were always planned down to a minute by minute basis. The same went for his bad habits. Even with the mansion, he knew that he might be sickened by some of the things he saw inside, and he accepted that.

Vincent was unexpected, _not supposed to be here_ , and the idea of dying from uncontrollable or surprising circumstances scared the living shit out of Reno.

Hell, his therapist would be proud.

He opened his mouth, ready to try to explain the situation one more time or beg for his life, he wasn't sure which, when Vincent's dark, deep voice interrupted him.

"What purpose do you have with Hojo's files?"

His opened his eyes and stared up in shock, wondering if he had misheard. "You're not gonna shoot me?"

"That is still to be decided."

Nodding slowly, Reno breathed in as the gun was lowered back to Vincent's side. "To the best of my knowledge, Rufus wants 'em destroyed."

"Why?"

"How the fuck am I s'pposed to know?” An irritated look crossed Vincent's eyes, so Reno elaborated, "all I know is that I was ordered to retrieve them. It's probably 'cause he doesn't want anybody to use 'em for their own diabolical means, ya know?"

An awkward silence passed during which the most intense staring contest of Reno's life took place, and finally he dropped his gaze to the floor. He heard Vincent move further in to the room, and he nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. "Are you thirsty?"

"You're seriously offering me something to drink? After I just broke in to your... house?" At Vincent's nod, Reno shrugged. "Sure, I guess. I'll take anything with alcohol in it."

Vincent, who was already in the process of pouring himself a glass of wine, poured another. A moment later, he handed it to Reno and sat down at the table, glancing at the redhead with a quirked brow. Reno took the hint and removed himself from the floor, sliding in to a chair. They both sat there, drinking from their own respective glasses of red wine. Reno stared at Vincent curiously, while the latter steadied his gaze on the wine glass in his hand.

"Have you gone insane?" Reno blurted out, unable to take the strangeness of the situation any longer.

Vincent glanced at him and set his glass down. "I hold no hard feelings for the Turks. To do so would be hypocritical. I am simply being… polite." He took a pause. "If you would rather get your files right now, I can lead you there."

Reno was tempted to deny the offer in favour of some more wine (it was delicious, he had to admit—Vincent had good taste), but he knew the mission was supposed to be a quick one. In and out, he thought, nothing more than half-an-hour at most. He was already fifteen minutes behind schedule.

He nodded. "Yeah, that'd probably be best, actually. I know my way there, don't worry." He stood up and Vincent mimicked the action.

"I hold no hard feelings for you, but I do not yet trust you." He led the way out of the kitchen. "I will take you there."

Reno resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be getting rid of the man any time soon and followed him as they made their way down to Hojo's lab. As they passed the room Reno knew Vincent spent many years sleeping in, a shiver ran down his spine. He didn't like this place at all, and he was surprised the brooding man had decided to come back after all was said and done. Had it been Reno, he would have packed up and gotten himself a place at Costa del Sol, or probably even Wutai—they had great booze in Wutai. A slow smirk drifted over his lips as he thought about it, thinking that perhaps he should pay Yuffie a visit some day.

"Take as long as you need," Vincent said, startling Reno out of his thoughts. "I will be around." With that he turned and left, leaving Reno to roll his eyes. He suspected that the man was too familiar with wearing a cape because the swiftness of the turn suggested so.

With a shake of his head and a defeated sigh, Reno got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends! I've finally done it! I've come back to my baby years later. Originally published on fanfiction.net in March 2008 (yeeeep), I only made it as far as chapter 10 before abandoning. Going to try my hardest to pick it up again. I am going through every chapter and fixing it up as I see fit, and from there I will be writing anew. Full disclosure, I haven't written in years. Mental illness kicked my fuckin' ass. It still is, but COVID-19 has given me more free time than I expected, so inspiration is worming its way back. I'm going to try my best. Next chapter will be on Saturday, and then every Saturday after that. Maybe a schedule will help me out here, haha. 
> 
> Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Possibly the rating too, though I doubt it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy my story. :)


	2. The Offer

Reno had a slight problem when it came to Rufus' office. Getting called in for anything other than a mission briefing, especially as a Turk, was never good. He could distinctly remember the last time he had set foot in the ridiculously expansive room. Elena and him had just finished an assassination which had worn them both down quite a bit—their target was quick, and obviously had more training than his file had let on. In the end, they'd brought him down, but not before he shot a bullet straight through Elena's shoulder. Reno, who was supposed to be protecting the rookie, had failed to see the gun in time, and that failure was the reason he was called down to speak with Rufus.

That mishap had cost him two weeks pay, not to mention a pile of guilt, and he'd made it a point not to screw up that badly ever again, which was why he was nervous about being called up now. To the best of his memory, he hadn't messed anything up lately—his last mission was to retrieve the files at Shinra's mansion, and that had been completed successfully. Well, as successful as a mission could have gone with Vincent Valentine thrown in to the mix.

Either way, that shouldn't be enough to warrant Rufus' attention.

With a heavy sigh, Reno walked up to the grand oak doors. He tossed a wink at Rufus' secretary, who simply ignored him. She'd dealt with Reno enough to know his flirtatious nature and wasn't about to be baited again. "Go on in," she said, pressing the buzzer to let Rufus know Reno had arrived.

The redhead pushed the doors open, keeping his eyes locked on the floor as he walked in and closed them. "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

"Sit down."

Reno cracked his fingers as he sat down (a nervous habit gained from his childhood in the slums) and finally looked up. He held back a resigned breath when he saw Tseng standing just to the side of Rufus' expensive desk. If whatever he had done required Tseng's presence as well, Reno assumed he was pretty much fired.

Turning his attention to the President in front of him, he recognized that the man was irritated. He usually kept an intense aura, but the way he tapped his pen told Reno that it'd be best if he kept his mouth shut. Papers, disks, and videotapes littered the desk. Reno frowned. These were Hojo's documents which he had gathered the day before. Wondering what he could have possibly done wrong, Reno looked back at Rufus with a questioning look in his eyes.

"Sir?"

"You missed something, Reno. Of all the things you could have missed, you missed the thing that matters most."

As he slammed the pen down and leaned forward in his chair, Rufus Shinra continued speaking. "Vincent's files, Reno. They aren't here. I don't know what sort of deal you struck with him…"

"Deal?" Reno repeated, confused as ever, but smart enough to move his chair back. "Sir, I didn't—"

"With all due respect, Sir, Reno has no reason to strike any sort of deal with Valentine. It's seems more likely that Valentine has already disposed of or hidden them somewhere." Tseng interrupted, giving his subordinate a harsh look of warning— _shut up, Reno, while you still have the chance_. "I will gladly pay him a visit to see if—"

"No," Rufus muttered, standing up. He pulled an envelope from one of his desk drawers and passed it over to Reno. "Reno will go back and sort things out." He linked his hands behind his back and stood in front the largest window in his office, staring out at Edge. Shinra had managed to re-establish its hold over Midgar's replacement, but it hadn't come easy. Rufus took a few minutes every day to remember his duty. He was going to make up for Midgar, and he was going to earn Edge's trust once and for all.

After a moment, he announced, "If you fail this time, Reno, consider yourself regulated to desk work for as long as I see fit."

* * *

"This is fucking unfair," Reno whined as both he and Tseng entered the elevator to take them down to the Department of Administrative Research. "I'm the one who gets blamed even though Vamp-Boy did all the shit to be blamed for."

"You should have known he wouldn't trust anybody with his information. The least you could have done is asked him."

"And what! He woulda shot my ass outta there so fast, I'd be sayin' hi to the lifestream before I even knew what happened."

Tseng cringed, quickly stepping out of the confining space as the elevator doors opened. "You may not like it, Reno, but you will have to deal with it." He gave him a sharp look before the doors closed. "I don't want to see you back here until you have Valentine's files."

Reno clenched his fist as he pressed the button to take him down to the parking levels. "Shit,” he mumbled, delivering a short kick to the door. He glanced down at the manila envelope clutched within his hands, and took the time to open it and hopefully gain some insight in to why the hell Shinra needed Vincent Valentine's information so badly.

* * *

It was the last thing Reno thought he would be doing on a Friday night, and it wasn't something he was looking forward to either. It was for this reason that he, once again, didn't even bother knocking on the imposing doors of the mansion that met him. Vincent was probably going to kill him anyway, so he might as well go out in style.

Relieved that he wasn't met with the wrong end of Cerberus, Reno cast his eyes around the dark entrance. It was late—10:45pm to be exact—and there was no sign of the ex-Turk. Still wary, Reno tiptoed in to the kitchen to make sure. When he discovered it empty and dark, he frowned. Well, if Vincent wasn't going to protect his alcohol, he figured he ought to have a drink. Grabbing a beer from the fridge (the black-haired man didn't seem the type to drink the cheap stuff; Reno decided they must've been Barret or Cid's), he twisted the cap off and took a swig, smiling at the familiar taste.

As he idly knocked half of the bottle back, he decided to take advantage of Vincent's absence. _Time to do some exploring_ ¸ he thought.

He wandered around the house, not really bothering to hide his presence because sooner or later he'd have to talk to the man who lived there. He searched room after room for any hidden documents, but realized it was futile. Vincent would never leave something as significant as his files out in the open, so the only way to get a hold of them would be through asking.

Reno was not looking forward to it at all.

"Yo, Vince! Ya here?" Reno shouted, jumping at a small thump from behind him. Whirling around, he discovered that it was just a cat. The feline's sleek, raven fur and piercing yellow eyes reminded Reno a lot of whom he assumed was the cat's owner. He shuddered as it passed him by. He wouldn't consider himself a superstitious person, but given the atmosphere and mission he was on, his nerves were on edge.

Picking up the pace a little, Reno proceeded through the upper levels of the house until he came upon a closed door at the end of a hall. This would probably be his final destination, he mused, watching as a soft light flickered from underneath the door frame. He knocked on it gently. "Vincent?" He cursed the animal now rubbing against his leg for making him jump, and tried again. "Vincent, it's Reno again. From the Turks…"

A moment passed during which Reno thought he might pass out on the spot, and then there were soft footsteps approaching the door, and he was positive he was about to die. For safety's sake, he placed his hand on his gun and bit his lip.

When the door opened, Reno couldn't have been more shocked.

"You cut your hair," Reno said in a tiny voice. His fear was forgotten in the surprise. He held back a huff of laughter. It wasn't a bad look on the man, just a strange sight. Stranger, perhaps, because of his clothing choice. Now he stood in the doorway clad in dark sweatpants and a ragged white t-shirt. To top the whole appearance off, he had tucked his sweatpants in to a pair of fuzzy yellow socks with a chocobo print.

Reno steadied his voice before saying, "and you have a cat.”

Vincent arched an eyebrow. "Why are you here this time?"

Reno shook his head and laughed slightly. "Oh, you know, just couldn't get enough of you last time…" He rolled his eyes as placed a hand on the door frame. "Nah, seriously, I need more files."

"I thought you had collected all of them," Vincent said, "when you were here last. There's more?"

"I got everything in Hojo's lab, yeah," Reno said, stretching his neck to see around the dimly lit room. A fireplace crackled in front of him and a gigantic bed was to the side, it's dark red sheets neatly folded and pillows fluffed. The entire room _reeked_ of Vincent Valentine in its dark colours and atmosphere. Reno had to wonder if the man had a fetish for black and red. "But, well, you're probably not gonna like this, but I'm just the messenger so don't shoot me. We need _your_ files. The ones Hojo had about his experiments on you and shit."

"Those are gone,” Vincent replied, voice lowering in warning. “Not that I would hand them over to the Turks in the first place."

Reno winced. "Figured as much." He stood up straighter and drank the last of the beer he still held. "You don't have copies or anything?"

"Why does Shinra need my files?" There was a dangerous tone there, and Reno reminded himself to play it safe. He brought his hand to his head and dragged his fingers through his hair, enjoying the calm the sensation brought.

"Ah, can't really tell ya that 'cause I don't know much myself." He hesitated and Vincent stared at him, clearly sensing the lie. After a second, he huffed out a laugh. "Alright, alright… You know how Shinra's trying to correct the past and all? Well, Rufus wants to fix _your_ past."

"I need no fixing," Vincent bit out as he leaned forward and grabbed the empty beer bottle out of Reno's hand. He turned, took a few steps, and tossed it in to a tiny garbage can at the corner of the room, leaving room for Reno to enter. Vincent bent his head and sighed.

Reno settled against the wall, still not too far inside, and watched him out of curiosity mostly. This Vincent Valentine was a man not many people got to see. He watched the man think, eyebrows furrowed as he moved to the fireplace, hesitated, and then turned back to him.

"You should leave."

"We can get them outta your head, Vincent," Reno offered, rooted to the spot. He couldn't leave. Coming back empty-handed would be a good deal worse than suffering a bruise or two from Valentine. "Chaos, and the others."

"I don't need—"

"Can't you just talk to Rufus? You don't need to bring your file," because at this point Reno had his suspicions that some sort of file still existed, "but just hear him out. I can't really come back with nothing. Think about my job, man."

It was a desperate plea that he knew would have no effect, considering the atypical snort of laughter it received. "I'd be doing the world a favour by having you fired."

"Ouch," Reno muttered sarcastically. "Look, I don't really give a shit what you think of the Turks or Shinra, 'cause this has nothing to do with them in the end. We're offering to fix you, dude. _Cure_ _you_ , whatever you wanna call it." He crossed his arms across his chest and cocked his head. "You'd be dumb not to try."

Vincent's gaze moved from the redhead to the crackling fire close to him, and it seemed to stay there for quite a while. He brought a hand to his head and rubbed his temple, letting his eyes shut briefly before turning them back to the Turk.

"I will speak with Rufus Shinra, but that is it."

Reno could have jumped for joy, but he figured it was best to hold it in. Instead, he let a large breath escape his lips and moved his eyes heavenwards. That was one thing accomplished, and one awkward thing left to ask.

"Great, but do you think I could stay here for the night? It's late, and my apartment is in Midgar… you're gonna need me to get inside anyway."

Vincent lifted a hand and waved it toward Reno, nodding, eyes back to the crackling flames. "There is a guest room down the hall to your left."

"Thanks, man. I appreciate it." He yawned, making his way to the door. "We'll leave at ten tomorrow," he said lazily.

He didn't stay to see Vincent's answering nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any errors. I am so exhausted tonight and I just remembered to post... haha. Didn't get my final run-through done. Anyway, see you next week!


	3. Dealings With Deviants

Vincent Valentine couldn't sleep.

It was late, around three in the morning if he had to guess, and the only peace he had gotten that night were the brief seconds during which he settled himself in to his bed. As he lay still after that, waiting for sleep to overcome his body, his mind wandered without his permission. Vincent Valentine didn't worry, but he was curious. He was a little suspicious of Shinra's motives—being freed of his demons was certainly something he had been foolish enough to dream of, but Vincent was no idiot. He had once been a Turk. He knew how Shinra worked.

A deal with the Devil always held a price.

His thoughts plagued him for hours until he finally gave up and threw the sheets off of his body. As his feet padded across his bedroom floor, navigating around his boots and gun that he always kept by his bedside, he wasn't entirely sure where he was going.

**_We could go mess with the redhead_** , Chaos spoke menacingly, causing Vincent to sigh. It seemed his demons couldn't get any sleep either. Ignoring the excited voices agreeing with Chaos, Vincent travelled past Reno's door and down to the kitchen where he prepared himself a glass of warm milk. He didn't require sustenance of any kind, really, but there were some finer things in life he found he was unable to give up. He never made his appreciation of warm milk public, because he knew for some reason he would never hear the end of it from Cid and Barret (who had a habit of stopping by to raid his alcohol supply, thus forcing Vincent to hide the milk at the very back of the fridge).

He looked at the calendar Tifa had pinned to the wall (“ _So you don't completely lose track of time locked up in here,”_ ) and frowned. The frequency of Cid and Barret's visits had slowed down quite a bit. The last time he had seen either of them was three weeks ago, and that was when Cid had dropped by for a quick drink, only to leave soon after to continue his errands. Come to think of it, everybody in AVALANCE seemed busier recently, with the exception of Vincent himself, and Yuffie, who Vincent simply hadn't seen or heard from in almost a year.

Barret had wed last year (the very occasion Vincent had last seen Yuffie), and was becoming quite the family man, allowing little time for travel when his wife became pregnant. Now, at seven months in to the pregnancy (with twins, they had discovered), and having to take care of Marlene as well, Barret had tried to turn things around with his past drinking habits.

Cid, on the same scale, was fast becoming the most popular airship captain around, and was finding himself with more work to do when his engineer left on a pregnancy leave. Of course, his home life became hectic when the very engineer, his wife Shera, got hit with a large dose of hormones (“ _It's like never-ending PMS, Vince, I swear.”_ )

Tifa and Cloud launched a large orphanage (while handing ownership of Seventh Heaven over to a friend), and rarely had time to so much as call any of their old friends in between cleaning up mud stains and finding room for the poor children constantly showing up ever since Bahamut and Kadaj.

Red XIII, or Nanaki as everyone now called him, was busy watching over Cosmo Canyon, but Vincent suspected he wouldn't want to leave even if he had the chance. The ex-Turk could respect that.

Reeve was gaining much political power within Shinra, and any time he did manage to get off was often spent sleeping. Cait Sith, as far as Vincent knew, had not been used in several years.

Vincent wasn't exactly a social person, but he'd be lying if he said the company wasn't appreciated. It was sad that he never got to visit the others, but he knew it was partly his own fault. He was entirely capable of going out and visiting _them_ , it had just never been a plausible option for him. He had had enough of travelling and was quite prepared to settle down.

A glance at the clock told him that if he had any ideas of sleeping that night, he should hurry up. He placed his empty glass of warm milk in the sink and silently walked back up to his room, whereupon he closed the door, climbed in to bed, and shut his eyes.

The warm milk seemed to be doing its job, and within a few minutes Vincent felt himself begin to drift. That is, he was drifting until a loud _thud!_ from down the hall jerked him wide-awake. A barrage of curses filled the air, and Vincent glared at the ceiling.

It appeared sleep was never going to be an option. Rubbing his temples, Vincent decided he wouldn't kill the Turk in the other room. After all, in his current state Vincent didn't really require sleep at all.

Bitterness flowed through him, and he found himself anxiously waiting for morning to come.

* * *

There was a beige folder sitting on the kitchen table when Reno made his way downstairs at eight o'clock the next morning. He stared at it for a few seconds before turning his attention to the man sitting in front of it, who also seemed to find it interesting.

Deciding not to ask, the redhead tossed himself carelessly in to a chair and buried his head on the table, letting out a childish whine. It was much too early.

"We are not leaving until noon, as you said, so you are welcome to go back to sleep," said the deep voice of Vincent Valentine. Reno resisted the urge to glare at him, instead content to beat his head softly against the surface of the table.

"I can't. I tried. I've been up since four-fuckin'-thirty, man. Fell off the fuckin' bed." He explained it in such a manner that implied it was a natural occurrence. With a sigh, he lifted his head. "Ya wouldn't happen to have breakfast, would ya?"

At the man's blank stare, Reno shook his head. He stood up and pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket. As he slipped them over his eyes, Reno waved his hand. "Let's go then. I ain't going to Shinra on an empty stomach."

It took a moment for Vincent to stand up from the table himself, and Reno pretended not to notice when the man placed the mysterious folder in to his coat. He stood to the side to let the man lead the way, since he no doubt knew the better breakfast places in Nibelheim.

Their breakfast, or rather Reno's breakfast since the raven-haired man declined to eat anything, was spent in silence. Reno paid, and twitched his fingers around as he debated what to do next. They had arrived back to the mansion but it was only ten o'clock, and he really didn't want to show up at Shinra any earlier than he had to. Vincent seemed to decide for him, though.

"There are books in the room to your right. Feel free to read until we leave. If you find yourself getting thirsty, you know where the kitchen is." With that, he disappeared upstairs, leaving Reno to his own devices.

"Trusting guy," Reno mumbled, walking to the room Vincent had mentioned a second before. He hadn't lied. Hundreds of books lined the walls and Reno, who hadn't willingly read a book in his entire life, found himself impressed. They must have been Hojo's books, but the collection either way was enormous.

Running his hand nonchalantly along one shelf, he picked one at random and sat down in a rather dusty, worn, green chair. Flipping the book open (there didn't appear to be a title or, for that matter, an author, but Reno was too bored to even identify that detail as odd), the Turk began to read.

It was two hours later that the door to the room opened, startling Reno from the surprisingly enthralling story. He wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish by tossing the book underneath his chair, stupidly trying to hide the embarrassing fact that he was actually _enjoying_ a book, but the odd look from Vincent made him blush. "Ah, I—I'm just skimming." The man slowly nodded, not commenting on the redhead's oddities.

"It is noon."

Reno bit his lip. "Already? Man…" He stood up and awkwardly pulled the book out from beneath the chair, placing it back on the shelves. "Alright then. Let's go. My chopper's just outside of town."

* * *

Rufus Shinra didn't bother to look up from his desk when his secretary let Reno in to the room. He continued signing the paperwork before him, and it was a few minutes later when he placed his pen down that he finally graced the redhead with an acknowledging glance. He was surprised to see (and somewhat embarrassed at having ignored) Vincent Valentine standing beside the Turk, face buried deep in the collar of his red cloak.

Rufus stood up and looked at Reno (who was fidgeting and praying that his job was safe) and gave him a short nod. "Thank you, Reno. You may leave." Reno hesitated for a moment, but breathed a sigh of relief when Rufus elaborated. "I have assigned a mission to Rude that he may need your help with. He's in his office, I believe." Reno gave a brief bow and turned around, flashing Vincent a cheeky grin before making his way out of the office.

As the door shut once again, Rufus sat back down. "Please sit," he said, motioning towards the chair in front of his desk that few people were actually allowed to sit in.

"I prefer to stand."

Rufus nodded, leaning back. "I suppose you're here to find out why we need your files—"

"I am well aware of why you need them, or at least I am well aware of what Reno has told me." Vincent crossed his arms. "I am here because I want to know the reason you wish to help me."

"We don't _wish_ to help you so much as it is our duty." Vincent remained silent, and Rufus tapped his fingers along his desk. "I really wish you would sit down, Vincent. This isn't a trap."

A tense moment followed, and the clock ticked on stroke after stroke—the sound was almost deafening to the President. Clearly not desiring to, but simply in hopes of moving the conversation along, Vincent sat down. His arms never left their crossed position. Rufus hoped the man wasn't always this distrustful.

Vincent nodded, urging the blond to go on.

"As an employee of Shinra—and a valuable one at that, being a Turk—it is a disgrace to this company the way you were treated. Professor Hojo had no right to do the things he did, and while inconvenient events make us unable to punish him, we feel that it is our duty to reimburse you for your… injuries." Rufus opened his desk drawer and pulled out a folder that he did not open. He set it on his desk and slid it towards Vincent. "It's a procedure that works and has been tested, so I assure you it's safe. It might comfort you to know that your friend Reeve Tuesti was a major help in developing it."

Vincent eyed the folder for along while, a frown outlining his features. "How could you possibly have tested it?"

Rufus was ready for this question, and while he knew Vincent wouldn't like his answer, he had no choice. "They were death row inmates, Vincent. They were going to die anyway. We infected one, treated him, and perfected the procedure based upon his results. Only four were harmed. The fifth was a success, but he has already been terminated as decreed."

Anger flashed across red eyes, and Vincent's hands shook. "You gave people my curse. I can't forgive that." He stood up and pushed his chair back. "That makes you no better than that monster."

Turning his back on the President, he swiftly walked to the door. Rufus panicked. "They were going to die soon anyway, Vincent, and their crimes deserved far worse than that if you want my opinion. How can you possibly be angry about what we did to a father who raped his own wife and murdered their only child in front of her? The others were no better. They all _deserved_ _to suffer_ , Vincent. Would you please just sit down and listen?"

Vincent stopped in front of the door, hand gripping the doorknob so tightly it shook. He spoke. "No one deserves these demons."

Rufus bit his lip. "Maybe so, but you least of all. Sit down, Vincent."

The doorknob stilled as Vincent's gloved hand let it go. He sat down in the abandoned chair once again, eyes trained on the desk in front of him. "Explain the treatment."

Rufus sighed and followed suit, situating himself back in his chair. "It lasts one month. Three weeks are for the treatment itself, and the last week is a period of time during which we must watch to make sure everything has gone smoothly. I couldn't explain the specifics personally, but if you agree to it the doctors would be happy to do so. There are no side effects, apart from possible nausea and vomiting, exhaustion, or dizzy spells during the procedure time. During the month you will be required to stay here at Shinra, of course, but after you are free to do as you wish."

Rufus glanced to the folder he had placed on his desk. "More details are in there, if you care to read up on the scientific aspect of it. All we would need from you are your files… to be sure we have all the correct data imputed in our systems. Reno wasn't able to find them, so I'm assuming they no longer exist?"

Vincent begrudgingly pulled the folder Reno had seen that morning out of his cloak. He passed it over to Rufus, who accepted it without a word. "Very well. Do you want to go through with this, then?" At Vincent's nod, he leaned forward and stuck his hand out. "I'm glad."

The ex-Turk eyed Rufus' hand warily, recognizing the significance of accepting it. He closed his eyes and breathed out a small sigh. It was something he wanted desperately, he knew, and if he had to get it from Shinra, then he supposed there was no other choice to be made.

Their handshake was a quick one.

"If you would prefer to start right away, we already have a room set up for you. You are, of course, welcome to go back to Nibelheim and collect your belongings. I will send Reno out with the helicopter."

Ten minutes later found Vincent standing in an all too familiar elevator with an amused redhead.

"Just think, you're gonna' _age_ again, Vince, and you'll have to actually eat breakfast in the mornin'."

Vincent would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like the idea of Reno being a book nerd.


	4. Minus One

It was raining when Reno and Vincent returned from Nibelheim. Reno led the raven-haired man to a room that was, Vincent found out, situated on the same floor as Reno's own. "Need to have someone here to watch over ya an' shit," Reno had explained, although Vincent supposed his cheery disposition was all an act. Turks did have permanent residences outside of the Shinra building after all and, judging from the bare living room he had seen from outside the Turk's briefly opened door, it didn't look like Reno used the Shinra apartments much.

"Your stuff should be in your room already, so yeah… here's a key." The silver object was handed over to him. "If you need anything, just knock on my door. The first meeting with the doc is at eight tomorrow morning, so be ready ten minutes ahead of time, and I'll take ya down there.” He paused, and the silence that followed was awkward. “Sleep well, I guess." He tossed a hand up in the air and gave it a small wave before dropping it back down to his side, strolling in to his own apartment. Vincent's eye twitched, but he followed suit and turned around to the door of his temporary apartment.

Inside hadn't changed all that much from Vincent's own Turk days, he noticed. The walls were still a pasty green colour, and the man was disgusted to see they even had the same plaid bed sheets. He figured the company would have at least changed that much after the new building had been built, but apparently interior design remained one of their weaker skills.

Vincent huffed, thinking back to the dreary Nibelheim mansion; it wasn't like he was one to talk.

As he unconsciously compared the mansion to this tiny room, Vincent couldn't help but feel a little lonely, a feeling that not only made him embarrassed, but melancholy. The silence in this room was the same as in his mansion, yet it made him miss his old friends even more.

Now that he was in Edge, Vincent decided he would pay a little visit to Cloud and Tifa's orphanage. Perhaps he would even see Reeve in the numerous halls of the Shinra building.

A frown crossed his lips briefly as he crawled underneath the sheets of the bed. First thing first, he would have to face the doctors in the morning.

* * *

The pulsing lights of the nightclub were distracting to Neilson's eyes as he roamed through the bustling crowd, searching for a certain woman. Bodies moved around him to the beat of the music. His head bobbed despite himself. A woman curved herself against his body as he passed by. He swept past her, eyes searching. He didn't have time right now.

She finally became visible. She was serving a group of barely legal (although if he had to guess, they were probably underage) teenagers some shots, and under the haze of smoke Neilson saw the panicked look in her eyes. She knew he was there. He smirked.

It was her own error, though, that had led to this, and Neilson didn't really feel any remorse over what he was about to do. Sure, he would miss the companionship she gave him on some nights, but there were always other girls. It had all been an act for her anyway. To think he had almost been played by a little Wutai rat.

Yuffie Kisaragi could easily be replaced.

She turned on her heel and made her way to the bar, stuffing a nice wad of cash in her pocket. Following her path, he stepped up behind her and wrapped an arm around her slim stomach, placing a soft kiss on her ear. "You've done something bad, Yuffie." She tensed up, and upon receiving an odd look from the bartender she plastered a fake smile to her face.

"Neilson… Hey, Ernie, I'm going to take a break for a few minutes alright? Just going out for a smoke." The bartender waved a hand at her and she grabbed Neilson's arm. The two calmly walked to the back exit. As they stepped out into the dark alleyway, she whirled around. "I told you not to come back here. I told you to leave me the fuck alone."

"We would gladly have left you alone if you had followed our instructions, little one."

"No!" She bit out, giving him a little push and taking a step back. "Do _not_ call me that. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think you do." He smiled and slowly slid his hand in to his pocket, taking pleasure as she started to shake. "Marlowe isn't pleased. You've been talking to the Turks, Yuffie. That's a big no-no."

"I haven't—"

Neilson ignored her and brought out a sleek semi-automatic pistol, turning it around as if to check for scratches. Satisfied, he pointed it at her forehead. She tripped and fell to the dirty ground, tears forming in her wide eyes. "Neilson, Neilson, please don't. I didn't tell them anything important. They just happened to be there. I swear, Neilson, please don't kill me." He said nothing and removed the safety. "Oh god, don't do this. Don't do this! People will find out. I'm part of AVALANCHE. They'll search for you. You can't do this."

"I find it ironic that somebody of your standing is serving crackheads in a place like this. If you're so strong, Yuffie, stop me yourself." He looked at her, daring her to fight back.

"You know I can't beat you. _Radek_ , please."

His finger settled on the trigger, and in one last desperate bid for survival she crawled to her feet and took off down the alley. Neilson watched her go, a bemused smile forming on his face. He laughed.

"Your time is up, little one."

The dancers inside the club didn't hear the gunshot over the beat of the music, and even if they had, they knew better than to get involved. In the back alleyway, Neilson pushed a piece of hair behind the ninja's ear and closed her eyes. Pocketing her tips, he left. A successful hit always sparked his appetite.

At the bar, the minutes crawled by—five, ten, twenty—Ernie bowed his head and sighed.

* * *

As Reno led Vincent down to the labs in the basement of the new Shinra building, he tossed a few winks to the various employees doing their work, and received a few glares in return. He left the ex-Turk with the doctors—he really had no desire to hear all the medical shit—and after wishing him luck made his way up to Tseng's office. Last night he had been notified of a significant development in the case of a prominent drug lord, and the meeting this morning was supposed to be an important one.

Twenty minutes later, he stared slack-jawed at his boss. He hadn't expected it to be quite _that_ shocking.

"Kisaragi's dead?!" He shouted. "No fuckin' way. That kid was awesome."

"Apparently her awesome didn't hold up against Marlowe's gang. She knew this might happen when she agreed to be our mole, so you really shouldn't dwell on it. AVALANCHE will be notified, and that will be the end of it." Tseng sighed when the surprise stayed on everybody's faces. "You're welcome to attend her funeral. I understand it will be held in Wutai a week from now."

Elena, standing to the left of Reno, looked down to the ground. "It's too bad… she was nice."

"How she even managed to tangle herself up in this bullshit is beyond me," Reno muttered. At his right, Rude remained silent, sunglasses hiding any shock he might have felt.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that they killed her for a reason. They know we talked to her, and any lead we might have had on this case has just disappeared. I sent Elena down to the warehouse Yuffie told us about earlier, and everything has been destroyed. They've changed locations.

"Our best bet now is to tail the man who murdered her. The bartender at Yuffie's place of work gave us a description, and a name. We can only assume her killer was Marlowe's hit man, Radek Neilson. He does all of Marlowe's dirty work. The only piece of information we have on him location-wise is that every night at ten he visits the bar down on Yardly Street. I've already assigned Rude to watch over him and attempt to follow him back to their new hideout.

"Once we find that, I will hold another meeting detailing our infiltration. You're all dismissed." The Turks filed out of Tseng's office with a dejected slump to their shoulders. Each had been a friend to the young Yuffie Kisaragi in some way, and the news of her death was anything but easy.

"What really sucks about this is that I'm the one who has to tell AVALANCHE," Elena stated as they rounded the corner and each headed to their respective offices. Reno whistled.

"Good luck with that."

"Thanks," she replied sarcastically. "You could do me a favour, though. Can you tell Vincent? You know him better than I do."

Reno decided not to mention the fact that he had only _really_ started talking to the man a few days ago when he saw the desperate look in Elena's eyes. "Yeah, okay." She thanked him and Reno wondered what the hell he was thinking.

He'd have to find the right moment and make sure the man didn't have a gun near him.

When he picked Vincent up a few hours later, the doctor informed him that he was very drugged up at the moment, and would likely be sick later on. Somebody would need to watch over him. Reno nodded and slung the man's arm over his shoulders, slowly walking him back to his apartment.

Suddenly, Reno stopped. "You have your gun, Vince?" A sluggish moan was his reply, and they started walking again. "I hate doing this to you now, but I don't want you to kill me later on. I've got something to tell you."

* * *

The doctor had failed to mention that whatever drugs were clogging up Vincent's system made him uncharacteristically emotional. Currently Reno sat on Vincent's bed, awkwardly patting the man on the back as he cried in to his hands. Reno knew that he probably shouldn't have said Vincent wouldn't be able to attend the funeral due to his medical procedures, but he did find some sort of relief in the fact that his comment was not met with the dangerous end of a gun.

"'Lena's gonna notify the other AVALANCHE guys. If you want, I can see if Cloud or Tifa will come to visit you or something."

As the crying continued, Reno sighed. Comfort wasn't really his best skill. He'd try to reason with the man later. He continued to rub circles on Vincent's back.

* * *

Vincent woke up a few hours later feeling miserable. He felt stiff, his eyes were sore, and he had the worst headache he'd ever had before. It took him a few moments to remember the events following his first appointment, and when he did he couldn't even find the strength to sit up.

If he had only tried to find her when she wouldn't pick up her cell phone all those years ago, he could have prevented this.

Bile rose in his throat and he twisted his head over the right side of the bed, hot tears stinging his eyes as he vomited, staining the beige carpets. It felt like it wouldn't stop, and he coughed, spitting up some foul liquid since he never ate anyway. He felt the hand on his back and recognized it as a small comfort, but only until he realized who it was.

"What are you doing here?" He hissed, wiping his mouth on the bed sheets.

"The doc said this might happen. He gave me some meds." Reno grabbed a glass of water from the desk and lifted it to Vincent's lips, urging him to drink it. "I mixed it into the water so it'd be easier to take."

Vincent gladly drank from the glass, taking deep breaths once he was finished. He fell back on to the bed and tried to fight down more waves of nausea.

"Get some sleep. I'll wake you up for your next appointment, okay? It won't always be like this, I promise." Before the door closed, Vincent heard a small whisper. "Sorry, Vince."

Vincent said nothing in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me.
> 
> I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who commented on the last chapter. I honestly didn't expect anything when I decided to pick this one up again. You all made me feel more confident in my ability to keep it going. Thank you <3

**Author's Note:**

> Friends! I've finally done it! I've come back to my baby years later. Originally published on fanfiction.net in March 2008 (yeeeep), I only made it as far as chapter 10 before abandoning. Going to try my hardest to pick it up again. I am going through every chapter and fixing it up as I see fit, and from there I will be writing anew. Full disclosure, I haven't written in years. Mental illness kicked my fuckin' ass. It still is, but COVID-19 has given me more free time than I expected, so inspiration is worming its way back. I'm going to try my best. Next chapter will be on Saturday, and then every Saturday after that. Maybe a schedule will help me out here, haha. 
> 
> Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Possibly the rating too, though I doubt it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy my story. :)


End file.
